Love, Hogwarts
by Mischief1Managed
Summary: Sirius, Lupin, and Harry share memories and stories as they read through letters the Marauders and friends wrote to their future selves while at school.
1. 1 Some Sirius Advice

_Author's note: This is my first fanfic, done for the _A Letter From My Hogwarts Days _prompt! I'm really excited to have it up. I'm working on a few more fanfics, so I would love reviews to know what you liked and didn't like!_

_Note: these were done before I really started working on my characterizations, to sort of get my bearings. I know that some of these are dreadfully cliched, but hopefully bits of it will be refreshing. My other works are better, I promise! The characters are like different people._

_Also, I tried to write as much in the style of J.K. Rowling as I could. If you notice any phrasing or anything that sticks out as not so believable, please let me know! I want to know where it works and where it doesn't. _

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><p><strong><em>Disclaimer<em>**: As much as I wish I did, I do not own these characters or stories. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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><p><strong>LOVE, HOGWARTS<strong>

**1. Some Sirius Advice**

How could he have dreamed of returning to Prive Drive for Christmas? Sirius's delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more, than they would have done at Hogwarts.*

That evening at dinner, Harry found himself seated between Hermione, who was hotly debating elf rights with Lupin (a conversation Harry wanted no part of) and Mrs. Weasley, who was still teary and beside herself at Percy's returned gift, and she had taken to viciously stabbing her turkey as if it was going to attack her.

Harry, however, nursed a sense of relief. He felt happier than he had in days, he was now sure he wasn't the weapon. But he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. What _was_? And if his brief forays into Voldemort's mind weren't a weapon, what were they? Was he supposed to be figuring this out? Another surge of anger at Dumbledore swept over him.

Lupin must have noticed Harry's quietness during dinner, because soon after everyone had finished he tapped Harry on the shoulder and beckoned to Sirius nearby.

"I want to show you two something," he said quietly. "Will you come with me for a minute?"

Harry glanced at Sirius before followed Lupin up the stairs, past the room that Harry and Ron were sharing, to the room with the desk that had previously been inhabited by a boggart. It was another dark, musty room, with grey silk wallpaper lining the walls and red velvet curtains hanging behind the sofa. Harry sat down between Lupin and Sirius, slightly bewildered.

"I couldn't think of a good Christmas present—" Lupin started.

"But those Defense Against the Dark Arts books were great!" Harry said. "I don't need anything else." Harry had already started planning the next few D.A. lessons.

"Oh," Lupin said quietly. "You'll enjoy this. You and Sirius both." He took a small packet of parchment out of his pocket and began unfolding what looked like a stack of letters. "When we were in fifth year—"

"Oh _no_!" Sirius groaned, his eyes widening. Lupin nodded, smiling faintly.

He began again. "When we were in fifth year, our Heads of House decided to have us write letters to ourselves in the future. They were supposed to be mailed out..." he trailed off, grinning sheepishly. "But apparently they weren't, because I found a stack in McGonagall's office two years ago while I was working at Hogwarts."

Sirius smiled, his lined face suddenly looking younger. "I'm not sure if I want to see this!"

Lupin shrugged. "I haven't read them yet. I've got ours and a few others."

Harry's breath quickened. By "a few others," what exactly did Lupin mean? But before he could ask, Lupin pulled the first letter from the stack.

"Oh no," Sirius said, and even Harry recognized his cramped handwriting. Lupin cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

_1975_

_Dear Future Sirius,_

_We're supposed to write letters to our future selves. McGonagall says it's a tradition. She says she's going to send it to us by owl when we're older, but who knows what will happen to this precious roll of parchment in between, so it's not like I'm going to dish out my darkest secrets or anything. Please note that I'm only really writing this because she keeps walking around the room, giving us that hawk-look that would terrify even Merlin out of his skinniest underpants. And also because Prongs decided to be a boring prat and I think he is actually taking this seriously. He's got half a page already. _

_Oh. He thinks Evans is watching him. Of course._

_I've just looked over at Moony's and it looks like he's decided to give himself some advice. Moony always knows what to do, so, without further ado, some things I've learned over the five years of my extensive, enriching Hogwarts career:_

_Some Serious Advice From A 15 Year Old Sirius_

_1) If you are reading this now as a married man, I pity you. It's time to rethink your life. You're still young, so act like it! You've got women lining up to get a ride on that motorcycle of yours, so take advantage. You can live vicariously through Prongs and Evans, little love-doves that they are, because let's face it, he'll win her over some day soon. But you, my friend, better still be playing the field. _

_2) Toujours Pur is a load of rubbish. Find yourself a new family and give that little dishrag Regulus a nice slap from your 15-year old self. Kreacher, too. I'd like to stick his head on the wall any day now. Give him as much trouble as humanly and magically possible. _

_3) If in doubt, ask Moony. He'll know the answer._

_4) That Permanent Sticking Charm still better be on your walls. Leave your mark and start planning your escape now! They can burn you off the family tree, but they can't forget you completely. _

_5) Okay, about number 1. Don't ever admit that you're jealous of Prongs and Evans. You'll never hear the end of it, even when you're forty and gray._

_Well, so much for not writing secrets._

_6) Keep your friends close. They're better than your dung-lump of a family._

_7) Elvendork is a great name. It's unisex, you can use it for a boy or girl!_

_8) If you haven't already, figure out how to lock Snivellus in that Vanishing Cabinet. The piece of dragon dung deserves it. _

_Padfoot_

Mischief managed.

"Elvendork?" Harry asked, sure he'd missed something.

Sirius shook his head. "Fake name, you don't want to know."

"You were _jealous_?" Lupin asked incredulously, turning to Harry. "We would have never known."

Sirius shrugged, smiling a sad smile. "You know how it was. Once he was off in Lily-land, there was no turning back. And where did that leave me?"

Harry was having some trouble imagining his parents as young lovers, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to. Lupin noticed the conflicting emotions flickering across his face, because he set down the letter. "Let's see what's on the next one."

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><p><em>*Quoted from <em>Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, "Christmas on the Closed Ward."

_Thanks for reading! I am still editing this, so comments are always appreciated._

_Also, I'm currently working on a full-length fic about the First Wizarding War which will essentially function as a prequel to the books, answering a lot of questions! If you'd like to know when it's up, add me on author alert. _


	2. 2 An Insensible Girl

**2. An Insensible Girl**

"Ah," Lupin sighed, glancing at Harry. "Your mother."

Harry grew silent, his breath becoming shallow. His mother had a tall, loopy handwriting, much unlike his own. He hadn't even looked at the words; Harry found himself studying the very marks on the page that his mother had made with her own hand so long ago. He wanted to touch it, to feel the grooves in the paper, to feel that it was real. His mother had touched this paper and he, Harry, was now holding it.

The three of them read the letter in silence.

_1975_

_Dear Lily,_

_A sensible girl would not be sitting here staring dreamily at the back of the that arrogant toerag who's been harassing her for years. A sensible girl would not, under any circumstances, let him make her feel in any way, shape, or form happy and bubbly. _

_A sensible girl would be sitting here, next to her best friend Dorcas, scribbling out her letter to her future self like a good girl. She would remind her future self all about the turbulent few years she'd had at Hogwarts, what with the guilt about Severus, becoming a Prefect, and finding out that one of her best friends was a werewolf. She would remind herself how her favorite candy was Sugar Quills, that she didn't give a hippogriff's rump about Quidditch, and that she was the first one in the year to produce any sort of Patronus (even though it was only a little wisp.) She would describe her anxiety as Professor Slughorn's Slug Club Christmas party approached and she had no one to take, even though half the school seemed to be waiting for an invitation. (Christmas coincides with the full moon this year, so Remus is out of the question.) She would be writing all about her vile sister and how Petunia told that beefy boyfriend of hers that she was mentally unstable, as an excuse for the time that she caused all of the buttons to pop off his pants in sheer anger. _

_A sensible girl would warn her future self of the things she had learned over the years: not to give into temptations, to follow your gut, to trust your best friends but still keep an eye out, and that it's okay to put down the books and laugh once in a while. A sensible girl would be finishing up this letter just about now, having just told herself all of that. She would not be wasting her time on that selfish prat in front of her. _

_I, however, am not a sensible girl. I must admit, I've spent the past half an hour staring dreamily at the dark, messy head in the row front of me, watching him occasionally reach back and ruffle his hair._

_A sensible girl would not, by any means, answer him with a smile as he turned around and whispered, "Hey, Evans." She would remind him to please call her by her first name and tell him to turn back around and stop talking, otherwise she'd hex his glasses and put him in detention. As I said before, I seem to have lost all sense, and I did none of those things. I smiled for a second, before realizing just how far I had let him in, blushed a deep crimson, and turned hurriedly back to this letter, knowing that it was far too late._

_A sensible girl would wrap this up right now before she gets herself into any more trouble._

_Yours truly,_

_Lily Evans_

"So she _did _like my dad," Harry muttered, just looking for something to say to fill the silence.

"We all knew it," Sirius said. "She was just stubborn."

"And I think _you_ played a little part in that," Lupin said accusingly.

Sirius raised his hands. "She barely knew me then! She judged way too quickly. "

Harry sat in silence, which Lupin mistook for disbelief. "It was just those few years," he said reassuringly. " Your mother was quite determined to give Sirius and your father as little satisfaction as possible."

Sirius grinned. "We deserved it."

"Lily and Sirius grew very close later on," Lupin said, eyeing Harry.

But Harry didn't want to listen. He wanted to read each sentence three times until he had the entire content memorized.

"Harry, we were young," Sirius said. "Young, and stupid, and..." he trailed off. "Let's see what's next," he said quietly.


	3. 3 A True Gryffindor

**3. A True Gryffindor**

"This one's mine," Lupin said. "I think I was having a particularly bad morning that day." He laughed ruefully. "I was such a pessimist."

"You were," Sirius agreed. "You were always too hard on yourself."

Lupin sighed. "I just couldn't believe that there were people who would actually be friends with a werewolf."

"Well, granted," Sirius said, "we were friends with you _before _we knew."

"Did you know you were going to come back and teach?" Harry asked.

Lupin shook his head. "I had no idea. It's what I would have _liked _to do, but things were a lot more difficult with my—uh," he glanced sideways, "my furry little problem."

Sirius chuckled. "That's what we called it. People thought he owned badly behaved rabbit."

Harry felt his lips turn up in a smile.

_1975_

_Dear Remus,_

_By the time you read this, you'll be leading one of two lives:_

_One. You will have married and settled down quite a while ago. You probably have a kid or two, who are begging to see the letter you're reading this very moment. As a Professor at Hogwarts, you constantly get to relive the happiest days of your life, where you made your truest friends who accepted you for what you are. You'll be seeing any combination of James, Sirius, and even Peter this weekend, because you must remember to silently thank them for making your teenage years bearable, and even enjoyable. _

_Two. You're out of a job, on the run, surviving on raw meat kill from the full moon. You haven't had human contact in over a year and you have no hope of ever returning to the Wizarding community. How this owl ever reached you I have no idea, because you are a sickly, ravenous, sorry excuse for a wizard. In fact, you're _not_ a wizard, and don't even pretend you are. _

_I really do hope that you're leading something similar to the first life, but I must prepare for the worst. There isn't much of a future for our kind, especially with the direction the Ministry is going now. Remember this: a few years ago you felt as if there were dementors constantly gliding about your head, you felt as if there was no hope for you whatsoever. Then, by sheer luck or chance or whatever you want to call it, you made the best friends a wizard could ask for. Your transformations were bearable and you even looked forward to the full moon. Quality time with Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail while the rest of the school was asleep? What fun! _

_Remus, remember this. You're a Gryffindor for a reason. You're brave. Stay brave, keep your chin up, and stick up for yourself. There's no reason you should have to suffer because of one dreadful night every month. _

_Love from your 15 year old self,_

_Remus "Moony" Lupin_

"Wow," said Sirius, sucking in a breath. "You really _were_ a pessimist!"

Lupin nodded seriously. "I know. If it weren't for you guys, I would have left by third year." Harry thought he saw him wipe something from his eye, and hurriedly looked away.


	4. 4 Morning Hiccups

**4. Morning Hiccups**

Lupin pulled another piece of parchment out of the pile and showed it to Sirius, the left side of his mouth dragging up in a sad smile.

"Ah, Dorcas Meadowes," Sirius said fondly, reaching out for the letter just as Lupin pulled it away. Harry glanced over Lupin's shoulder and saw a long letter written in a small, cramped hand.

"Who's Dorcas Meadowes?" Harry asked, thinking he'd heard the name before somewhere.

"She was one of the best witches in our year," Sirius said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a reluctant smile. "You would have liked her, Harry. Sharp as a bird, no girly nonsense from her. But boy, did she have a sense of humor."

"She was in the original Order, too. She was a very powerful witch, Voldemort killed her himself." Lupin said quietly. Harry bowed his head. Another casualty. It seemed as if half of the authors of these letters were no longer alive. He sat there for a moment, jolted back to the present by Lupin's escalating voice. "But that's not what Sirius saw in her—"

"Hey—"

"He was after her for weeks, you know. Years."

Sirius grinned, but his eyes remained sad. "I wasn't _nearly _as bad as James."

Harry sat silent at the mention of his father, but his ears perked up. This was the first he had heard of his godfather and girls. But, judging from the pictures he'd seen of teenage Sirius, he was sure Sirius had no trouble in that area.

Lupin cleared his throat and began.

_Dear Future Dorcas,_

_Today you, well, I, began the day with a nice old-fashioned prank on that short and oddly lumpy boy Peter Pettigrew, who spilled his ink all over your Transfiguration essay last night. I mean, it wasn't really his faut per se, he's been known to knock over anything within a two-meter radius of himself, and nobody would have let him sit down next to an open bottle of ink and a newly finished essay. It was more that arse Sirius Black. Remember him? Sure you do. He's that one who clearly thinks he should have made the cover of Witch Weekly years ago. And so what if half of the female population at Hogwarts agrees? It's not going to stop me from ignoring his obvious flirting, even though that does seem to make it worse. He's not the James Potter Hopeless Romantic type, so I don't know what he's getting at, and I haven't quite worked out how to make him stop. Quite frankly, I'm glad James didn't let me on the Quidditch team. He said I'd outflown most of the other Chasers, but with the way his best Beater kept looking at me, he couldn't allow me on the team. I didn't recognize it as a good decision until weeks later. _

_Anyway, I could have easily just hexed Pettigrew as he trudged groggily into the Great Hall, but I thought that would be too easy. He wouldn't even have time to know what hit him. Luckily, in Potions yesterday we brewed a Hiccuping Solution, of which I had nicked a small phial just in case. So during breakfast, I scoped out my target. He was sitting with the rest of the Cool Crew, or whatever they call themselves, so I had to think fast. I figured if I talked to Lupin about the Charms homework, that would distract Black too, and Pettigrew is just as observant as a blind moth, so I didn't really have to worry about him. Carefully, after asking Lupin just how many toads he had managed to Silence, under the pretext of getting a little competitive, I slipped a few drops of the potion into Pettigrew's pumpkin juice—he had caused me to stay up two more hours to rewrite my essay—and, after ignoring Black's comment that he had Silenced a raven (which was obviously not true) I returned to my seat, glancing back to see Potter mutter something to Black. _

_And a few minutes later I had that arse to answer to. He came over to where Lily and I were sitting. At first he began yelling at me in defense of his friend, but he couldn't stay mad at me for long and ended up congratulating me on my idea. Well, so much for that. He wasn't even going to stick up for his friend? But then again, nobody ever stuck up for Pettigrew._

_There's a day in the life of Dorcas Meadowes for you. I can only hope you've grown up a little by the time you read this. _

Sirius stared at the parchment incredulously. "She can't have disliked me _that _much."

Lupin chuckled. "I mean, you _were _the reason she didn't make the Quidditch team!"

"She should have felt honored!"

Harry thought this was going a little too far—he didn't think he could handle Sirius reverting to his cocky teenage self before his eyes. "Did you, er—"

"They dated for a week or two later on that year," Lupin answered.

"Too bad, really. It was so short-lived. I remember it well..." Sirius said, staring wistfully at a corner of the ceiling. "We had just won the match against Slytherin, you know. Big party in the common room. James was busy trying to get your mother to talk to him. I'd had a bunch of Firewhiskys and wouldn't take no for an answer. I think Dorcas had had a little too much herself." Sirius smiled sadly and shook his head. "I liked her."

It sure seemed like Sirius had been quite a bit more knowledgeable about girls in his fifth year than Harry was. He made a mental note to, if he had time and the right opportunity, seek Sirius's opinion about Cho.


	5. 5 From The HalfBlood Prince

**5. From the Half-Blood Prince**

Sirius grabbed the next letter before throwing it aside in disgust. "_Snivellus_."

"Sorry, what?" Harry said.

"Severus Snape," Lupin offered, glaring at Sirius, who crossed his arms. Harry bit his lip to suppress the unwanted laughter at Sirius's nickname for Snape. So they really _had _disliked each other for that long. And Harry couldn't blame him. Lupin sighed. "Dumbledore trusts him. Can't you just—"

"_No_," Sirius said forcefully, grabbing the letter from Lupin. "Some things don't change. Let's see what the slimy git had to say."

_1975_

Langlock_: will glue the target's tongue to his mouth. _

Levicorpus_: will dangle the target in midair by his ankle_

Liberacorpus_: counter-jinx to levicorpus_

Muffliato_: fills target's ears with unpleasant buzzing. Perfect for keeping out unwanted listeners._

Sectumsempra_: cuts a deep gash in the target_

Digita Enlargo_: toenail enlarging hex_

_Note to self: use all of these on James Potter. At once, if possible._

_I, Severus Snape, the Half-Blood Prince, claim ownership of the aforementioned spells. I'll use every one of them on Pretty Boy Potter and then he and Black won't be so keen to pick on old Snivelly anymore. Not to mention Mudblood Evans who's become friendly with them now. _

_Do I want to apologize? No. I did try, but it's all for the better, really. She is a Mudblood, there's no denying it. _

_(a bunch of scratched out lines.)_

_One day, they will all pay. _

Mudblood Evans. That had to be his mother. Harry blanched. "What did he have to do with my mum?"

Sirius and Lupin glanced at each other, Lupin shaking his head ever so slightly. "Not now," he said wearily. "I can't possibly begin to explain that one now."

"But—"

Sirius had taken the letter back. "Dark Magic," he spat, reading over the spells. "But that _Levicorpus_ spell, it was really popular when we were at Hogwarts. If you didn't watch your back, next minute you would be hanging in the air by your ankle."

Harry sniffed. "What's the Half-Blood Prince?"

Lupin shook his head. "No idea."

"I reckon he fancied himself royalty," Sirius said, sneering, before dropping the piece of parchment into the pile.


	6. 6 An Auror's Letter

**6. An Auror's Letter**

"Alice?" Harry asked, reading the name on the heading.

"Longbottom," Sirius answered. Harry's lips parted to form a silent "O." Harry had felt almost guilty witnessing the scene between Neville and his mother that afternoon, and even though he wasn't sure it was the same, he thought he knew something of the pain Neville must feel.

Harry was drawn immediately to the letter. He felt as if he _had _to read it, after seeing the state Alice Longbottom was in today. If he read the letter, he could think of her as a young, bright witch, instead of the tortured soul he'd seen today.

_1975_

_Dear Alice,_

_This is a bit daunting, isn't it? Try and explain who you are right now, at this very moment as a teenager, to yourself in another ten or twenty years. _

_I've nowhere near lived up to Dad. I grew up hearing stories about his escapades at Hogwarts, like the time he put a fanged gerbil in Augusta Longbottom's handbag, and I think he is a little disappointed at how, well, _hard_ I'm working. Mum, on the other hand, says she couldn't be prouder of my ambition to be an Auror. Right now we're all studying our brains off for the O.W.L.s at the end of this year. I'm taking all the tests necessary for Auror training: Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology. I'll have no trouble with Herbology or Charms, it's really Potions I'm worried about. Put me next to a cauldron full of anything—whether it be pumpkin juice or Draught of the Living Death—and the outcome is never good. As long as I scrape an Exceeds Expectations, I'll be alright. I might go and see Slughorn after this. Especially these days, with all that's happening with He Who Must Not Be Named, I'm sure the Auror office would be glad for any help they can get. Maybe the training would be a little more lenient. I really do feel that it's something I have to do. Terrible things have started happening. Deaths and disappearances. For all I know, it could be me next. Or Dad, or Mum. _

_Please, please, _please_ let me pass my O.W.L.s!_

_Love,_

_Yourself in 1975_

"Never knew her too well," Sirius said quietly, "but everyone said she was kindest witch they'd ever met."

"She was convinced she wouldn't pass, I remember it." Lupin shook his head. "Ended up being one of the greatest Aurors of her time."

Harry thought he could sense a little bit of Neville in that letter—he knew where he got his humility, his determination.


	7. 7 Toujours Pur

**7. Toujours Pur**

Sirius picked up the next letter before tossing it to Lupin. "Regulus," he spat.

Harry thought back and remembered Sirius's brother from the old family tree. Unlike Sirius, he hadn't been burned off.

"He must have been in his second or third year here," Lupin said.

Sirius glanced at the letter again. "He always wrote with superiority, like he thought he was better than everyone else. Really thought he was something special."

_Regulus,_

_Owls are being intercepted, mail opened and read, and there is no guarantee this letter won't reach the wrong hands. I don't know what they're playing at. I obviously can't write anything about my recent activities, but I'm sure I won't forget any time soon, there's no need to remind myself._

_I've become powerful. I can feel it. It's the power a wizard has over a Muggle. A pureblood has over a Mudblood. That I have over my brother, especially in the eyes of my mother. It's the kind of power that comes from a family like mine. Cousins Bella and Cissy knew, they're the ones who made me feel it. Following in their footsteps has been the best decision of my life. Even Slughorn can't deny it—of course he's invited me to his little Slug Club, and not just because of Quidditch. And he's had the sense not to invite Sirius, who really doesn't understand. "What's a spiny little bugger like you doing _there_?" he asks me. Why am I suddenly so important? If only he knew, I really do pity him. These days, power is everything. No one is safe unless they have the right alliances. It's all I can do to keep my family out of trouble, and it's probably for the best that Mum is ready to disown Sirius—she'll do it any day now, I'm sure. He's as much as a traitor as half his House—he'll put us all in danger. _

_Remember this in the future. Remember where your loyalties lie, and always protect your family, because they may be too blind to see the way._

_Regulus Arcturus Black_

_Toujours Pur _

"Always protect your family..." Sirius muttered. "Being called a traitor by Regulus is almost an honor!"

Lupin looked at him disapprovingly.

"What's this Slug Club?" Harry asked.

Sirius smiled ruefully. "The old Potions master, Slughorn, fancied himself somewhat of a collector. He would invite any student who showed any sort of promise to these little parties of his, in the hope of gaining favors in the future."

"My mother mentioned it," Harry said.

"Yes." Lupin nodded. "She was an incredibly good potion maker. Slughorn really liked her."

His mother... good at Potions? Harry certainly hadn't inherited that trait. "Was my father...?" he trailed off.

"Neither good at Potions nor invited to the Slug Club," Lupin said, laughing. "Oh, he tried."

"Back then I always wondered how Regulus got an invite. Turns out it was because he was a powerful little teenager. A Death Eater."


	8. 8 The Snorkack Quest

**8. The Snorkack Quest**

Lupin took the next letter from the top of the pile. "Xenophilius Lovegood," he muttered.

"That's the editor of _The Quibbler_, isn't it?" Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah," Harry said. "His daughter's in—" he faltered, not wanting to bring up Dumbledore's Army. "She's in Ravenclaw," he finished lamely.

Lupin nodded. "I remember seeing him around. He was much older than us. Always had his head in the clouds."

Harry chuckled. "That's Luna for you. Ever heard of a wrackspurt or a nargle?"

Lupin and Sirius both raised their eyebrows.

_My dearest Xenophilius,_

_When I read this letter in the future, I hope I will remember this time fondly. This year begins the first year of the rest of my life. Yes, you guessed it—I no longer see the need for formal education, not when there is a quest to be undertaken! The highly elusive, utterly rare and extremely beautiful Crumple Horned Snorkack has been spotted in Sweden! I shall journey there this summer and I won't rest until I get a glimpse. Whether I return to Hogwarts or not, we shall see. If I am lucky enough to find the Snorkack and have a proper conversation, I might find some clues on the whereabouts of the Umgubular Shlashkilter, and from there, the wide world is at my fingertips!_

_I shall wrap this letter up early, for I have a meeting with Professor Dumbledore. He has once again refused to look into my beliefs that Professor Slughorn is a vampire. Those "club" parties he has must be a mere excuse to draw blood from his victims—the partygoers always emerge looking a little pale, and I am worried. While I am at it, I will see if I can persuade him to add a patch of Dirigible Plums to the gardens. They do enhance the ability to accept the extraordinary, you know. I would be happy to provide some seeds from my personal potted plant in my dormitory. _

_Best,_

_Xeno_

_(a strange triangle symbol)_

"Slughorn? A vampire?" Sirius scoffed. "That's about as likely as a werewolf in the school!" Lupin gave him a glare. "Only joking..." Sirius added quickly.

"What's that symbol below his name?" Harry asked. Below his signature was a strange triangular rune of some sort.

Lupin looked closer. "It could be a crest. A family crest maybe?"

"He was a nutter," Sirius said. "It could be anything." And he reached for the next letter.


	9. 9 Rat Tails

**9. Rat Tails**

This time, it was Harry who threw the letter down in disgust. He couldn't even look at the writing of the man who had once been friends with his parents, who had betrayed them. Who had escaped capture again and again by turning into that wretched rat.

Lupin sighed. "It's so hard to believe it."

_Dear Peter,_

_Isn't this great? A letter to yourself in ten or twenty years! You can remember all the great times with your best friends. Just this morning, James did one of his coolest stunts yet. He found this charm that would levitate someone by their ankle! Of course he tried it out on Snape first before anyone else, and blimey, it was like he was dangling from the sky by his foot! And then—get this—he gave me a try! Sirius was laughing too hard to pull himself together, so James asked me if I'd like to try! With only a little difficulty I lifted Snape into the air, muffling out his cries (after all, that would have been me if I hadn't gotten lucky with my friends) and then everyone was cheering... for me! I felt like a regular James or Sirius. You have no idea how good it felt. I can only hope it put them in such a good mood that they'll be in the mood to help me with my Transfiguration homework later, because last night they were "too tired" and I received a T. Troll! I've never heard of anyone actually getting a Troll! But then again, I don't think McGonagall likes me at all which is a real shame, because she's bloody in love with James and Sirius. Oh, here she is now... I should get started on that essay..._

_Until later,_

_Peter "Wormtail" Pettigrew_

"He worshipped the ground we walked on," Sirius said quietly. "Couldn't believe he actually had friends."

"If not for us, he would have been worse off than Severus," Lupin agreed.

Harry could feel the anger building up inside of him. How could they have befriended this sorry excuse for a man, this man who was willing to sacrifice his friends? They shouldn't have. Then he would have parents.

"How _did_ we ever get stuck with him?" Sirius asked, mirroring some of Harry's anger.

"I felt bad for him," Lupin said miserably. "He seemed to be in the same position as I was before we were friends."

Harry's face grew hot and he could contain it no longer. "HE BLOODY KILLED MY PARENTS!" Harry bellowed, breathing deeply. He heard footsteps outside the room and Mrs. Weasley poked her head in.

"Is everything alright?" she whispered.

"Yes, Molly," Lupin said. "We're just... talking."

Moments later, as Mrs. Weasley went back downstairs, Harry was already ashamed of his outburst.

"We never saw it coming," Sirius whispered. "It was supposed to be me, I was supposed to be the Secret-Keeper."

"Pettigrew was weak, we knew that. He wasn't exceptionally bright or talented. So that's why James chose him, I think. Nobody would have suspected him."

By then, the three of them were glassy-eyed and trying to conceal it. Harry waited a moment before boldly picking up the next letter.


	10. 10 Hobgoblins

_I couldn't figure out how to get line spacing on this one. It looks weird, but the song has verse breaks at the "/"_

* * *

><p><strong>10. Hobgoblins<strong>

"Stubby Boardman," Harry breathed, wondering why this name had sounded familiar.

Sirius shook his head as if trying to unfog it. "He was older than us. He and his friends started a band in their seventh year."

Lupin laughed, even though his eyes were still sad. "They were terrible. They'd play in the Great Hall sometimes—"

"Hang on," Harry said, remembering where he had heard the name. "The Quibbler reckons he's you!" Harry looked at Sirius.

"What?" Sirius and Lupin both said together.

"Yeah, Luna Lovegood was telling me about it on the train. "He reckons that 'Sirius Black,'" Harry made air quotes, "Is really Stubby Boardman on the run."

Sirius let out a single high-pitched laugh. "That is the most absurd thing I've heard in a while."

_To the future Stubby Boardman,_

_Since we've got this large block of time, I figured I'd draft another set of lyrics for the Hobgoblins./_

_Oh, can you siiiiiiiiing?_

_Sing it like a crazy niffler_

_Sounds better than a high-pitched whistler,_

_Oh-oh, sing it out like an ugly troll_

_A-singin' through your soul/_

_Oooh-oooh dance like a grindylow_

_A Patronus with a blue-white glow_

_Oooh-oooh dance like a big banshee_

_A-not a thestral you can't see/_

_Just let your wand down, feel okay!_

_Let your wand down, hey hey hey!_

_I said, let your wand down, your magic is free!_

_Let your wand down, hey hey hey!/_

_Jump like a ghoul on fire_

_Like a house elf that's just been hired,_

_Ooh-ooh jump like a doxy that's sprayed_

_Like a dementor out in the day/_

_Aaaaaah, sing like a hinkypunk_

_Like a boggart with a big fat rump_

_Oh-oh sing like a Norwegian Ridgeback_

_Like a leprechaun content to kick back_

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That's just about the worst thing I've ever read. _Let your wand down_? That's the worst advice anyone could give."

Lupin laughed. "See what I mean?"

Sirius grunted. "And we were all forced to 'free concerts' once a month. Their treat."

Lupin smiled. "Remember that time—"

"Yeah," Sirius cut in, turning to Harry. "James and I replaced the sound system with Screeching Speakers."

Lupin scrunched up his face in the apparently painful memory. "It was even worse than the band." Sirius put down the letter and reached for the next.


	11. 11 Always the Charmer

**11. Always the Charmer **

Harry recognized the next handwriting at once. Deliberately graceful and painstakingly perfect—it had to be his second year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," the three of them said together.

"How do you know Lockhart?" Sirius said, raising his eyebrows.

"He taught my second year," Harry answered. "His memory's gone, he had Ron's broken wand and it backfired."

Sirius smiled a little too gleefully. "He was a stupid, arrogant—"

"Git," Harry finished. "He lost me all the bones in my arm! But it's fine," Harry said hurriedly, seeing Lupin's concerned look.

Sirius nodded. "Even in our time, he wasn't particularly smart or talented. He was just an easy charmer. In many senses of the word." Harry snorted. It was definitely possible.

"Why was he trying to perform a Memory Charm on you?" Lupin asked.

"We were in the Chamber of Secrets. He was going to get the story out of us and then make a book out of it."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Sirius said, and the three of them laughed in agreement.

_My dearest Gilderoy,_

_My, my, are you looking dapper as ever today. You are in the best years of your life, so I expect you to take full advantage of it! Oh, remind yourself later today to apply for _Witch Weekly_'s Most Charming Smile Award, the deadline's Thursday. And you'll have to persuade that weedy boy Prinkett to give you his Defense Against the Dark Arts notes, but no matter, it'll be another opportunity to practice that Memory Charm, which is, by the way, getting to be your strongest spell. Oh—Grimelda White is looking at you again—flash a smile, atta boy! I should think that the third time she asks you out, it would be prudent to accept. You can't keep them waiting forever, you know. _

_Once I'm finished this year, that's it! I'm out! Out into the wide wide world, ready to share my talents. Now, I'm really not sure exactly how I will go about that; there are many ways to share my talents, but I was told by a very credible source that I am a fantastic writer. And with my innate abilities to get in with the right people and—er—get to know them, I should be doing fabulously in a couple years' time!_

_For now, I'll be practicing my signature. _

_Most fondly,_

_Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Gilderoy Lockhart_

"Blimey," said Harry. "How many times can a man practice his own signature?"


	12. 12 Fifteen Years

**12. Fifteen Years**

There was only one letter left in the pile, and Harry didn't know if he could bring himself to read it. If it wasn't from his father, he would probably be curious enough to raid McGonagall's office to find that missing letter. And if it _was_ from his fifteen-year-old father, he was still a bit apprehensive.

Harry looked away as Lupin unfolded the piece of parchment, but Sirius and Lupin's silence was a dead giveaway.

"I remember this," Sirius said, letting out a tiny, sad laugh. "He wouldn't show me what he was writing. Said it was really personal." So was it a violation to read it, then? Were they disobeying his father's wishes? It felt odd, being here with his father's best friends, sharing old school memories. Feeling such a strong connection to everything, yet at the same time, none at all. It was as if he was suspended somewhere between actually being there in the moment and hearing about it from a far-off voice.

Lupin and Sirius were reading, and as much as Harry was reluctant to gaze upon his father's private letter, he found himself hungrily devouring word after word.

_Dear James,_

_Lily Evans is watching me. I know it. _

_I wouldn't write this much if she wasn't. Seriously, in fifteen years, I'll still remember who I was in 1975. It's not like a person can change that drastically in fifteen years, right? In fifteen years, I'll probably have a job. Maybe I'll be an Auror, an Animagus would make a bloody brilliant Auror. I've always wanted to work with International Quidditch, but it seems almost like a waste with everything that's brewing right now. Mum said I'd never have to work, that they passed on enough gold to support me and a family for a lifetime. But what else would I do? I won't just sit around all day. Remus will definitely work—he'll be Minister of Magic before we know it. Sirius has as much chance of inheriting his family's fortune as I do of becoming best friends with Snivellus, and Pettigrew will probably be stuck testing cauldron bottom thickness. So really, I've got to find something. _

_Fifteen years is a long time. Maybe I'll be married. Maybe I'll have kids. Now that's a scary thought. I wish I was sitting next to Evans to see what she's writing. Does she want to get married? Does she want kids? The family cottage in Godric's Hollow; vacations on the seashore. We'll host quad-family dinners every Sunday..._

_This is a bit embarrassing. If anyone ever gets hold of this, I'll be finished. James Potter wanting a quiet lifestyle? Unheard of! Now Padfoot's trying to peek, I think this letter's over—better put it away before he sees it and announces to the whole school what a softy I am. _

_James "Prongs" Potter_

Harry could guess as to why his father did not want this shared with anyone. He was 15, for Merlin's sake, yet he already had his entire life planned out. Harry blinked fervently, his throat growing hot. Out of this dream of his father's, Harry was the only thing that had survived.

Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder and Lupin sighed. "I think he would have wanted us to read it," he said.

Harry waited a few seconds and cleared his throat. "Do you think it was all because my mother was watching?"

Lupin shook his head. "He mentioned some of these things from time to time. He always wanted to live in Godric's Hollow. It's where his ancestors lived."

"And they always had us for dinner, too," Lupin said, "Even though we saw each other much more often than once a week."

Sirius smiled, his eyes in a far-off place. "James and I used to take a ride on the motorcycle after dark, after the Muggle police wouldn't be able to see us. I remember when they were deciding on a name for you..." and Sirius relayed a story in which he and James had been caught by the Muggle police, and when asked for their names, they rattled off a few fake names James was brainstorming for Harry.

The three of them sat in silence for a while, Lupin and Sirius contemplating James, and Harry mentally running through all the stories he'd heard about his parents, trying to put them in order, and cement them to memory.

"Thanks," he croaked finally with a watery smile. "Thanks for showing me these." Even though it didn't all show everyone in the best light, especially his father, Harry could live with that. And he _had _written it, and that was as good a gift as any.

Lupin smiled wearily. "Merry Christmas."

* * *

><p><em>Well, that's it. What did you think? Are there more letters you want me to write? Let me know!<em>

_There is a sequel to this story up on my profile. It's called "Our Heads Could Do With Filling." _

_As I said before, I am currently working on a full-length prequel, featuring the Marauders at school and their first defiant acts against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Put me on author alert to get notified when it's up!_


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